To Build A Home
by temporaryinsanity91
Summary: tired and alone, James Possible remembers how home used to be. based on levi2000a1's Cloudy With A Chance.


**Hey guys. Been a while since I posted something around here, so I'm glad to be back. However, I have to put an ENORMOUS thanks and disclaimer here, because neither the show or its recognizable characters, nor the original plot for this story belong to me. In order to understand what is happening here, you should first read _Cloudy, With A Chance _by levi2000a1. He asked me kindly to help him with an outtake for his story, and since he's been beta-ing most of my projects these days, I was more than happy to help. **

**The song in this song-fic is called _To Build A Home,_ and it's by The Cinematic Orchestra, featuring Patrick Watson. Check it out at www dot youtube dot com /watch?v=oUFJJNQGwhk. **

**Without further ado, **

**Chapter 7.5: To Build A Home**

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Her face was still in his mind when he opened his eyes. Rain was pouring outside the window of the tiny space, but he barely registered it, or the rumbling thunder and flashing, angry lightning that accompanied. When he was little, his mother always told him that when it rained, it was because God wanted to clean the world. Now as a scientists he realized that that actually had some value; rain helped clear the pollen and pollution from the air, essentially cleaning the sky. The bed felt oddly cold and uncomfortable like it always did.

He turned on to his side, and tears slipped from his eyes. It was the first time he'd slept more than two hours in... days. His mind was tired and his heart was tired. This place was bare and dusty, and he shivered. A year ago, at this time, she would be pouring him coffee while he read the _Examiner. _She would kiss his cheek, and he'd look into her eyes and see her love, and he'd smile his thanks. Then he would look out the curtain-framed window at the morning sunshine. He longed to be by her side again. He longed for her smiles and her caresses, and the carefree voices of his children. He wished he could go back to how things used to be.

_There is a house built out of the stone_

_Wooden floors, walls and window sills_

_Tables and chairs worn by all of the dust_

_This is a place that I don't feel alone_

_This is a place that I call my home_

All he deserved was...

"_I'll hate you forever! I hope you burn in hell!"_

He shook his head, dazedly trying to dispel his depressing thoughts, only to be startled to see _her. _She was wearing her lab coat, but she was barefoot. Her eyes were sad, their vibrant teal-blue color dull. He reached for her but she turned away. His shoulders slumped. When he looked up again, she was gone, and the window wasn't the window from before. It was the small, dingy kitchen window that he was now accustomed to.

_And I built a home_

_For you_

_For me_

_Until it disappeared_

_From me_

_From you_

He poured his coffee, black and hot, bitter and poorly brewed, but he didn't care. Reaching into the cabinet for a small bottle, he shook out two pills and downed them with the coffee. He stared at the bottle a moment, then shook out one more.

Making his way to the door, he tripped. His mug, which he'd taken from the set in the kitchen in a fit of nostalgia the day he left Ann, crashed to the ground and shattered; he landed ungracefully near the shards.

He could hear his daughter screaming, and suddenly blows from a bat were raining down on him, causing him to bleed. He hunched against them, trying to protect his head and body as he curled into a ball. She was so angry. She hated him. He peeked around his arm and saw Ron's dead body. Ron, the little boy that he watched grow, that played in their garden because his had a gnome he was afraid of, watched his baby girl's back as she went on her missions, and eventually became her lover and husband, lay dead on the ground because of him, his blood pooling around his head and pouring from his nose and lips.

He hated himself even more as he waited for the inevitable moment when his daughter wished for his death. He bit his lip so hard he drew blood so that he wouldn't scream, begging his daughter for any shred of mercy.

Then, as she started to swing the bat at his head to end it, she stopped and looked down at him, the blood on her sneering face making her look like something out of a horror movie."No," she jeered at him, her lip curling in a demeaning grin, "I'll give you a chance to end this yourself. Let's see if you're at least man enough to do that."

_And now, it's time_

_To live_

_And time_

_To die_

He'd had this waking nightmare a million times. Each time was more debilitating than the last. He did what he always did then. Pulling out his lap top, he opened his video-diary program and started recording a new entry. He'd done hundreds of videos, addressed to different members of his family; this time, it was for his daughter.

"Kimmie," he choked out. "Kimmie, I... God I love you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I wish I could change what I did—what we said. I wish we could take it back. I..." he stopped, trying to control his tears and his voice. Drawing a calming breath, he continued.

"When you were six, you and Ronald were playing in the back yard, and you kicked your ball into a tree in the neighbor's yard. You, of course, went to go get it, but you only got as far as the fence before you were too scared to continue and too scared to go back down. You were... screaming for me," he whispered, "and finally I got you to jump into my arms so that you would be safe." He swallowed and looked away from the camera. "You trusted me enough to jump back then. Now..."

_I'm in the garden where we planted the seeds_

_There is a tree as old as me_

"The good old days, you know? When you were young and innocent... and when I was your protector, and when I was your best guy. I remember those days a lot. They keep me from losing my mind." _If only she knew,_ he snorted to himself. "You are still the light of my eyes," he whispered. "I still love you more than any dad ever loved his little girl. You'll always be my sunshine, my Kimmie-cub, my baby girl. No matter what we said the last time I... saw you.

"You know, that wasn't the first time I'd been up there, to get your ball down. I'd been up there before. I took a picture of your mom sunbathing on the deck from up there. She looked so peaceful and happy...

I hope that... now that I'm gone... you guys can be happy without me. I hope that, now that I'm gone, that _damn, cursed _day will be the last time I ever failed you. I... really love you. I hope that you know that, even if you hate me now."

_By the cracks of his skin I climbed to the top_

_I climbed the tree to see the world_

"That day you jumped into my arms, it'll always be my favorite memory of you, because you held on to me like I was the only person that could ever save you. After you... after you left with Ron... you were so angry... and we said all those things... your mother and I had such a hard time. I failed her all the time. I need you to know that I... I really did try. I really did try," he whispered as sobs shook his body.

_When a gust of wind came to blow me down_

_I held on as tightly as you held on me_

_Held on as tightly as you held on me_

"I love you so much baby girl... everything good that I've ever been, everything good that I've ever done, it's all been because I love you, and your mom, and your brothers... and Ron. I love you all."

_And I built a home_

_For you_

_For me_

_Until it disappeared_

_From you_

_From me_

_And now, it's time_

_To live_

_And time_

_To die_

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**thanks for reading. Be sure to check out the full length fic in progress, **_**Cloudy With A Chance,**_** and let levi know how he's doing. Chapter 8 should be out soon.**

**Cheers! **_  
_


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